Judging a book by its cover
by inkinmyheartandonthepage
Summary: One-shot:What if Sherlock and John had been together in the early days and Lestrade and his team are surprised that Sherlock is involved romantically with John? Established John/Sherlock. Slash. Rated T for safty!
1. Judging a book by its cover

**Hello everyone! I'm back again with another one-shot! I'm sad that I hadn't seen Sherlock earlier but glad that I actually have it now! I bought both season on DVD and have been watching it when ever I can. I even got my brother into it! He now hates me for distracting him :P so worth it though!  
You can follow me on tumblr (my URL is: inkinmyheartandonthepage) if you like :D **

**Summary:**_ What if Sherlock and John had been together in the early days and Lestrade and his team are surprised that Sherlock is involved (romantically) with John? Established John/Sherlock. Slash_

**I hope you all enjoy this and I apologize for any mistakes! This was not looked over by my beta so all mistakes are mine. I don't own BBC Sherlock!**

* * *

**Judging a book by its cover**

Lestrade had never met someone like Sherlock. The man had waltzed into Scotland Yard – tall, lean and pale - and announced that Lestrade and his team had managed to convict an innocent woman while the real killer stilled walked the streets of London.

The papers had been following the case, an elderly woman had been killed in her home on Pier street. All the evidence was pointing to the daughter – who had some motive for wanting to kill her mother – and so the police had arrested the daughter.

Sherlock had been following the case in the papers and he himself had interviewed the daughter and taken a look around the crime scene and was amused to find that the police had gotten it all wrong.

"What do you mean it wasn't the daughter?" Lestrade asked, intrigued by the mystery man and also a little amused.

Sherlock had sighed loudly and had immediately began to rattle off details of the crime scene, pointing out the mistakes that Lestrade and his team had made and correcting them.

"Cleary it was the old lady next door who is the murderer, _not_ the daughter," Sherlock finished and Lestrade had just gaped at him.

"Right – that's, uh – thank you. We'll take your thoughts –" Lestrade stammered out.

"Deductions," Sherlock interrupted.

"Sorry what?" Lestrade asked.

"Deductions. I study the science of deduction. Look it up on my website," Sherlock said and Lestrade nodded.

"Er, I will. Thank you."

Sherlock nodded and with a swish of his long trench coat he was striding out, leaving several confused people in his wake. Lestrade had called his team back and both Anderson and Donavon had been outraged that Lestrade was taking Sherlock's advice and reviewing the case.

Sherlock had been right and the daughter had been released and the next door neighbour had been arrested.

Lestrade didn't expect to hear from Sherlock again and he certainly didn't think he would be the one who would be contacting him. Lestrade had looked Sherlock up on his website and saw several cases that Sherlock had solved that the police hadn't been able to. So when Lestrade and his team were getting nowhere on their latest case, Lestrade had phoned Sherlock and that's how their 'partnership' began.

* * *

Over the next few years Lestrade still worked with Sherlock and found him very odd.

"I'm high functioning sociopath Anderson, do your research!"

Over those years Lestrade – or anyone else – for that matter wasn't any closer to knowing Sherlock. The man divulged little information about himself. Lestrade only knew that Sherlock had a brother when Mycroft had appeared on his front door step and introduced himself and asked Lestrade some very personal questions and very elegantly informed him that he would not tolerate any harm coming to his younger brother.

Sally Donavon had taken to calling Sherlock a freak and insulting him at every chance she got but the insults rolled off Sherlock's back and he often had a witty comment to shoot back at her to shut her up for a few minutes – usually by deducing some rather personal affairs of hers.

Anderson hated working with Sherlock – but mostly hated that the freak was so good at their jobs and he hadn't studied to become a detective and that he had found out about his affair with Donovan. They all knew that he loved the crime solving and he only took the interesting cases. So it was a surprise when Sherlock left a perfectly interesting case.

* * *

The crime scene was practically bare, save for a large pool of blood, a severed leg and one eye ball. The police had been able to get no leads on it and so had called Sherlock. The consulting detective had arrived ten minutes later and had immediately began looking around the crime scene and examining the severed limb and eye ball.

Two minutes later and Lestrade cleared his throat.

"Have you got anything?" he asked.

"Several ideas," Sherlock announced dryly as he sniffed the eyeball, much to the disgust of Anderson and Donavan.

"Care to share them?" Lestrade asked, knowing that the answer was no. Sherlock ignored him and continued to dance around the crime scene. The silence was broken by a phone ringing loudly. Sherlock straightened and frowned, pulling out his phone. He sighed heavily and answered it.

"What is it Mycroft? I'm busy," Sherlock snapped.

The look of anger dropped from his face and Lestrade saw that the man seemed to turn paler – if that was possible – and his eyes widened slightly.

"When?" Sherlock demanded. He listened for a few minutes before hanging up the phone and shoving it back into his coat pocket. He ripped of his gloves and chucked them at Anderson who just manage to catch them.

"You're looking for an IT man," Sherlock told Lestrade, striding towards him. "I would check to see if any employee's have not turned up for work."

Sherlock strode past him and Lestrade turned after him. "Is that it? You're leaving?"

"I have important things to tend to," Sherlock called back. A sleek black car pulled up to the scene and the door opened. Sherlock slid in, slamming the door behind him and the car pulled away, leaving Lestrade confused and in trouble. He sighed and turned back to his team.

"Alright, let's finish this."

* * *

Lestrade sighed and sent yet another message to Sherlock.

_Please Sherlock. We need you –L_

He sighed again and just hoped that Sherlock would reply. They hadn't heard from him since he left the crime scene abruptly and it had only been 16 hours ago but they were at a loss. Lestrade phone chimed and he looked at it eagerly.

_Come to St. Bart's. R314 – SH_

Lestrade let out a sigh of relief. He picked up his coat and strode out of his office, swinging his coat on as he hurried out of Scotland Yard.

* * *

Lestrade walked through the halls of St. Bart's, passing grieving families, patients taking walks and the staff. The DI found the room easily and knocked lightly before peeking in. He took in the sight before him and made a mental note to never forget it.

Sherlock had seated himself on the standard hospital bed, long legs out in front of him. however, there was already a patient in the bed. He was tanned with dirty blonde hair. He was wearing the standard hospital gown and his arm was in a navy blue sling. Draped across the two men's lap was a laptop.

"The missing IT man is Harold Andrews," Sherlock said as Lestrade entered slowly.

"Yeah, we found that out," Lestrade nodded distractedly. "That's about it."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and his fingers tapped at the keyboard. "Did you search his office area, conduct interviews of his colleagues?" Sherlock asked, as if he was addressing a child.

"Sherlock," the man beside him warned.

"Of course we did. They all said the same thing. He was very private," Lestrade sighed. "We need you to have a look around."

"I can't," Sherlock told him bluntly.

"Yes, he can," the man beside him contradicted.

"No, I can't John," Sherlock grumbled.

"It's fine Sherlock," John assured him, gently closing the laptop and sliding it on to the bedside table. Lestrade watched with wide eyes as John took Sherlock's hands in his. "_I'm _fine. I know how much you want to take this case."

Sherlock frowned. "But social conventions say that one must stay and comfort a loved one when injured. Research shows that I must stay here. With you."

John smiled and chuckled. "You're bored. Go. Mrs Hudson is coming around to see me and I'm sure Mycroft will pop in sometime."

"I'm not bored," Sherlock frowned. "I have enjoyed telling you about my cases and listening to your reactions."

John's smile grew wider. "And I've enjoyed hearing them. Think, if you take this, then you can solve it and come back and tell me all about it."

Sherlock remained quiet as he thought this through. "Alright," he finally spoke. "I shall be come by again tonight and then by tomorrow I will have solved it."

"I know you will," John said softly.

Lestrade watched wide eyed as Sherlock leaned in and kissed John on the lips. John deepened the kiss as Sherlock's fingers traced along his jaw line. They pulled away softly and gazed at each other.

"I love you," Sherlock murmured and Lestrade never thought he would hear those words coming out of Sherlock's mouth.

"Love you too," John replied.

Sherlock swung himself off the bed and strode out of the room.

"You must be Lestrade," John spoke up and the DI nodded.

"Yes. Sorry, who are you?" he asked.

"John Watson, Sherlock's husband," John replied.

"Husband?" Lestrade blurted out and then winced at his bluntness. John chuckled.

"He has that affect," John said amusedly.

"Sorry, he's just never mentioned you. I didn't think he had friends," Lestrade said awkwardly.

"Just me," John told him. "Although he does hold you and Mrs Hudson in high lights."

Lestrade felt pleased to hear this. "I assume it was you who Sherlock got called away for."

"Yes. Shot in the arm," John grunted, looking at his shoulder sadly. "Afghanistan."

"You're in the army?" Lestrade asked surprised.

"Army doctor," John corrected. "Thank you."

"For what?" Lestrade asked, confused.

"For allowing him to help on cases – even when he's being an arrogant bastard," John grinned and Lestrade chuckled.

"Yeah, well, he's damn good at what he does," Lestrade shrugged. "Better to have him on our side than another."

John nodded and winced as he jostled his arm.

"It was nice to meet you," Lestrade continued. "Maybe we'll see each other around some more."

John smiled and gave a nod before letting his eyes slide close.

"John?" Lestrade asked and the army doctor turned his head, opening his eyes. "How long have you been married?"

"Three years," John smiled and Lestrade nodded, giving him one last smile before leaving.

Lestrade took his leave and headed back out of the hospital. His mind was spinning as he walked back to his car. Sherlock Holmes had just added another spanner in the works and everything Lestrade thought he had figured out about the man had been tossed out the window.

* * *

True to his word Sherlock solved the case by the next day.

"Where is he off to in such a hurry?" Sally questioned suspiciously as Sherlock hurried away from Scotland Yard after giving his statement and filling out the paper work.

"He's getting back to his husband," Lestrade answered with a smile.

"Husband?" Anderson sneered.

"Someone married that freak?" Sally gasped, shocked.

"Three years," Lestrade commented, shifting all his papers into a pile before tapping them against the table to make them straight. "An army doctor."

Lestrade strode out, smirking at the shocked looks of his team and chuckled to himself. Sherlock may be a mystery to them, but at least Sherlock had someone who didn't see him a mystery but as a person, a friend, a lover and as a husband.

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**I would love to hear all your thoughts so please review! I hope you all enjoyed it and happy reading! **


	2. Established Pink

**Hey everyone! Due to popular demand, I have been asked to give a sequel so here it is! I want to thank everyone for all their wonderful reviews and I'm so glad that you enjoyed the story! You are all so amazing and so encouraging!  
Summary:**_ Set in A Study of Pink. Established John/Sherlock slash. Donavon finally meet Sherlock husband and he isn't impressed with her. _

**I hope you all enjoy this! Once again this is all me so I apoligize for any mistakes. I'm sick too so there will probably be a lot more than usual so sorry about that : ) I do have a beta but she is busy at the moment so that why this hasn't been looked over. **

**Thanks to those who are now following me on tumblr too! (URL: inkinmyheartandonthepage)**

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**Established Pink **

Sally Donavon looked up when she heard approaching footsteps and groaned aloud when she saw that it was none other than Sherlock Holmes. He was dressed in his usual attire – grey scarf wrapped his neck, long black trench coat, jacket, silk shirt and dress pants – and his skin a ghostly pale.

"What are you doing here?" she sneered.

"I'm here to see the crime scene," Sherlock said, his tone bored.

"Why?"

"I was invited."

"Why?"

"I think he wants me to take a look," Sherlock told her, his tone patronizing. Sherlock lifted up the crime scene tape and climbed under it. He held it up and it was then that Sally noticed that Sherlock was not alone.

"Hold on. Whose this?" She asked, looking at the new stranger.

"He's a colleague," Sherlock supplied and the man rolled his eyes slightly.

"A colleague? How do you get a colleague?" Sally sneered. She turned to the short man. "What, did he follow you home?"

The man looked to Sherlock with wide eyes. "Should I just wait in the cab?"

"Nonsense," Sherlock snapped and held the crime tape higher. The man – hardly ducking – stepped under and began to follow Sherlock towards the house.

"Freaks here, brining him in," Sally said into a radio and she missed the frown that crossed the man's face. They had nearly reached the house when Anderson stepped out, looking angry at Sherlock.

"Great. _You're_ here. Try not to contaminate my crime scene," Anderson growled and Sherlock gave him a look of innocence.

"Wife away for long?" Sherlock questioned and Sherlock's guest coughed his throat as a warning.

"Don't act as if you figured it out," Anderson retorted hotly. "Someone told you."

"Hardly," Sherlock drawled. "You and Donavon are wearing the same men's deodorant. I'm sure Sally just happened to stay over and it was so kind of her to scrub your floors judging by the state of her knees."

Both Anderson and Donavon gasped and flushed red. Sherlock strode passed them and neither of them missed the amused look that Sherlock's guest had on his face.

* * *

Lestrade was waiting for Sherlock and greeted him. He smiled when he saw John and was pleased when John smiled back.

"Nice to see you again John," Lestrade greeted, holding out his hand for John to shake. John gripped his hand firmly and shook it.

"You too," John nodded.

Sherlock handed John a blue suit and John hurriedly pulled it on. Lestrade hadn't seen John for a few months and was glad to see that his arm was out of the sling and had appeared to heal nicely. John zipped up the suit and rose an eyebrow at Sherlock.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Sherlock looked him over and hummed. "I prefer the stripes."

John chuckled lightly and followed Lestrade as he led them up the many flights of stairs. They climbed all the way to the top where a woman laid face first face on the hard wooden floor, dressed entirely of pink. John and Lestrade stood back as they allowed Sherlock to do his thing. They watched as he carefully touched the body and look around the room.

After a couple of minutes Sherlock stood and pulled out his phone.

"She's German," Anderson said from the door way, leaning against it carefully. "Rache, German for revenge."

"Yes, thank you Anderson," Sherlock said, not looking up from his phone and shut the door in his face.

"She's German?" Lestrade asked.

"Of course not, but she from out of town," Sherlock murmured. John listened with awe as Sherlock began to rattle off the many deductions he had made in the short amount of time he had been with the body.

"Brilliant," John breathed when Sherlock had finished. Lestrade saw Sherlock flash his husband a smile before returning to look around the room. Lestrade smiled mentally. This was the first time he had heard someone compliment Sherlock's deducing abilities, rather than getting annoyed and telling him to piss off. It was refreshing.

"What do you think?" Sherlock asked.

"Of the message?" John asked, confused.

"No, the body. Anderson is just being his usual idiotic self," Sherlock drawled.

"Sherlock," John admonished. "There is a dead body here."

"Perfectly sound analysis, but I was hoping you would go a little further," Sherlock squatted down and looked up at John from under his eye lashes.

"Prat," John huffed affectionately and squatted down next to the body too. He got in close and smelt around the woman's mouth and examined her fingers. "Hmm. Died of affixation. No scent of alcohol but she choked on her own vomit."

"Poison," Sherlock corrected and John looked up. "Come now, you've been reading the papers."

John nodded and Lestrade sighed.

"Another suicide."

"Wrong," Sherlock snapped, standing back up again. John straightened up as he listened to Sherlock rattle out more deductions and got so swept up in that he almost looked manic. He started going on about a case and the next thing John knew, Sherlock had swept out of the room and started racing down the stairs, still yelling about a case before disappearing out.

John shrugged at Lestrade and made his way down stairs slowly. He took off the blue suit and made sure he had everything before leaving. He was making his was out when Donavon stopped him.

"You're not his friend you know," she said and John paused.

"Excuse me?" John asked, head cocked to one side as he controlled his irritation for this woman.

"He's gone. Left in a taxi just now. He doesn't have friends," Sally continued. "He's not getting paid for this. He gets off on it. I would stay away from him if I were you. Get a hobby."

John closed his eyes briefly and then opened them, smiling.

"Thank you for the suggestion," John said politely, acid bubbling under his tone. "But I would appreciate it if you didn't insult my husband when you don't know anything about him."

"Husband?" Sally stuttered.

"Yes. I'm John Watson, Sherlock husband," John smirked and watched as Sally floundered. "There is a reason why Sherlock doesn't share his personal life with people and I can see why he wouldn't share it with you."

Sally flushed and snapped her mouth shut.

"Can you point out where I can get a taxi?" John asked.

"Main road," Sally murmured. John nodded and stepped under the tape and walked off, anger rolling off him in waves.

Sally jumped when Lestrade voice sounded behind her.

"Now that you've finished insulting Sherlock Husband," he said. "Maybe you could get back to work and hope that Sherlock doesn't find out."

Sally nodded and quickly turned on her heel before striding back towards the house.

Lestrade watched as John casually strolled towards the main street. From where he was standing Lestrade could see that John didn't mind that Sherlock had run off without him. The man was probably used to it by now. When Lestrade thought about it, he wasn't surprised that John had helped Sherlock with the crime scene. The man had been an army doctor after all and had seen many horrific and gruesome deaths.

A sleek and shiny black car pulled up in front of John and Lestrade watched as he entered the vehicle and shut the door behind him before the car pulled out and merged into the traffic. Lestrade turned back to the crime scene and started barking directions at everyone.

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**I hope you enjoyed and please review! There will most likely be another too so look out for it!**


	3. Drug Bust

**Thank you all so much for all your wonderful reviews and adding this to your favourite lists and story alerts! I'm so happy that you are all enjoying it as I have had so much fun writing it :D You are all amazing!  
This is the last chapter! I think 3 one-shots is a good amount! Thank you to everyone who wanted me to continue! This was only meant to be a one-shot but you all twisted my arm :D  
**_Established John/Sherlock slash. Third in the series. Set in A Study of Pink. It's Anderson's turn to find out who John is and John has had enough. _

**Just a heads up! I will be changing my username from _nija assassin _to my tumblr URL _inkinmyheartandonthepage _**

**I apologize for any mistakes that are in here! I know there are some but I'm not feeling all that great so there are probably a few so sorry for that! **

* * *

**Drug bust**

Sherlock and John leant against the wall, panting for breath, occasional giggles falling though their lips. John reached out and squeezed his husbands hands, tugging him closer. Sherlock slid across the wall so his side was plastered against John's side and rested his head against his husbands.

"Welcome to London," John giggled again and Sherlock huffed out an amused laugh. Their adrenalin high of the chase was slowly fading but it disappeared when Mrs Hudson came out of her flat, looking distraught and upset.

"Oh Sherlock, what have you done?" Mrs Hudson asked, glancing at the stair case. Both men frowned and their heads snapped up when they heard thumping upstairs in their apartment. Both men took to the stairs, Sherlock taking them two at a time and stormed into the apartment.

Sherlock looked around angrily and his furious gaze landed on Lestrade who had made himself comfortable on his chair.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock growled.

Lestrade looked around and sighed. "It's a drug bust."

"A drugs bust?" Sherlock growled. "I don't do drugs. I'm clean. I don't even smoke!" He unbuttoned his sleeve and pushed it up to reveal a nicotine patch. Lestrade stood and did the same.

"Either do I," Lestrade murmured. "Look, I'll call them off if you stop withholding evidence." He gestured to the case. "I'm fine with you helping but you can't go off on your own."

"What, so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Sherlock snapped. Lestrade looked at John who was looking furious and sighed. He didn't want to do this, but sometimes it was the only way to get through to Sherlock. They needed to work together, not against one another.

"Never mind that. We have the case and according to someone, the murderer has it," Anderson sneered and both men turned to find Anderson in their kitchen, latex gloves covering his hands. Sherlock's eyes narrowed further as they locked gazes.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock growled.

"I volunteered," Anderson smirked.

"Are these eyeballs?" Sally asked, coming into view holding up a jar of eyeballs.

"Put them back," Sherlock snapped.

"They were in the microwave," she cried.

"It's an experiment," Sherlock explained.

"Put them back," John said, his voice barley controlling his anger. Sally looked at him startled, having not seen him there and quickly put them back where she had found them.

"I see you brought your pet along again," Anderson sneered and Sherlock growled.

"John is not my pet," Sherlock snapped angrily.

"I'm his husband," John growled and Anderson eyes went wide with shock.

"You married this freak?" Anderson blurted out.

"He is not. A. Freak," John grunted hotly, his face slowly turning red with his anger.

"Anderson," Lestrade warned and Anderson rolled his eyes, sneering at them both.

"You're not going to find anything," John told Lestrade, moving closer to Sherlock. "There isn't anything here."

"John," Sherlock said, his voice warning him to let it go.

"We'll see," Lestrade said, mostly for the benefit of his team but he knew that John was telling the truth. They wouldn't find anything.

"You won't," John said again, his voice firm.

"Just, tell us what you found," Lestrade said to Sherlock, his voice holding a hint of a plea.

Sherlock growled, the noise becoming too much and he couldn't think straight.

"Everyone shut up! Anderson turn around. You're putting me off," Sherlock yelled loudly.

"What, my face is?" Anderson asked.

"Anderson your back! Now!" Lestrade yelled and slowly the man turned.

"Oh!" Sherlock breathed as everything fell into place. Rachel. She was the key to the whole thing. Then everything grew hectic once again when Mrs Hudson came up, telling Sherlock his taxi was there.

"Dad?" came a small voice and everyone froze. John and Sherlock whipped to the door and found a little boy standing there. He was dressed in his pyjamas, blinking rapidly and swaying tiredly as he stood. Mrs Hudson tittered but John went to him and scooped him up, holding him close. The boy had dark curly hair and pale skin like Sherlock but you could see hints of John in his features. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, everything's fine," John assured the child. "Sorry we woke you."

"I thought he was still in bed," Mrs Hudson whimpered, looking distressed.

"It's fine Mrs Hudson," John assured her.

"You fathered a child?" Anderson sneered. "Another freak no doubt."

Lestrade knew that Anderson had gone too far. Calmly, John went to Sherlock and handed the small boy over. Sherlock took him in his arms and settled him on one hip, looking at John confused. The boy rested his head in Sherlock's neck, his eyes never leaving John. Nobody moved as John went to Anderson, who eyed him carefully. With one swift movement John pulled back his fist and punched Anderson squarely across the jaw.

Anderson went down with a loud thump, banging into the cupboards, knocking a glass beaker of the bench where it shattered and looked up at John with a shocked expression, cradling his jaw.

"Relax," John growled. "I'm a doctor."

"Cool," the child in Sherlock's arms breathed and Sherlock was looking thoroughly impressed, a smirk gracing his lips. He did however seemed miffed that his beaker had been smashed but he was willing to let it pass this one time.

"Don't you ever insult Sherlock or our boy again," John told him firmly. "Or next time I'll break your nose."

Anderson nodded weakly and John smirked, satisfied. He went back to Sherlock and took their son from Sherlock – who handed him over without complaint - and carried him out of the room. Before he left though he turned to Lestrade.

"Please keep your team on a shorter leash from now on," John growled and stomped out.

"Sherlock dear, your taxi is here," Mrs Hudson pressed on, looking anxious and a little amused.

"Mrs Hudson! Please!" Sherlock cried, continuing on as though Anderson wasn't being helped up off the floor by Sally and that Lestrade was looking amused. Then everything began to click again and Sherlock disappeared outside for some 'fresh air'.

Lestrade, not wanting to cause any more injuries to his team, called them off and told them to put everything back to the way it was before heading out. Mrs Hudson walked over to Lestrade and smiled at him.

"Their little boys room is just up the stairs. You can apologize to John there," Mrs Hudson said. Lestrade nodded and followed to older woman's instructions. He climbed the stairs and peeked into the room and saw John tucking in the little boy, packing up his toy micro scope in the process. Lestrade waited until John stood before making himself known.

John nodded and left his son's room quickly, turning out the light as he did.

"I apologize for the disturbance," Lestrade apologized. "I also apologize for any distress we may have caused your son."

"I know that Sherlock isn't conventional and does things his way," John replied. "and sometimes he goes overboard but you didn't need to set up a pretend drugs bust. You can call on me for details you know. Sherlock goes through his deductions with me so I can offer you the information."

"I will remember that," Lestrade nodded, looking thankful.

John smiled and nodded. "Is Sherlock still down stairs."

"No, he stepped out for some air," Lestrade reply.

"Sherlock never stops outside for air," John frowned. He looked at Lestrade before pushing passed him and hurrying back into the living room. Lestrade followed and found his team leaving and John looking at a laptop. Lestrade called a goodbye once everyone was out and John waved distractedly and Lestrade left.

Once again Sherlock had left them all confused and mystified about himself. Lestrade had no idea that they two of them had a child together and wondered if many people did. He supposed this was a good thing. Better that Sherlock's enemy's didn't know he had a son so that they couldn't use that against him.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed and thank you so much for all sticking with this. Happy reading everyone! **


	4. Bad day was it?

**Aw man! You guys gave me such wonderful reviews that I just had to give you another chapter! You guys are so amazing and you give me the inspiration to write! I write these for you guys and I'm so glad that you all enjoy them so much and give me such postive feedback! **

**I've changed my pen name from _nija assassin _to _inkinmyheartandonthepage _which is also my tumblr URL! So sorry if i confused you guys with me changing it! It's still the same little old me! :D **

**I apologize for any mistakes and promise that my next story I publish will have been looked over by my beta! **

_Established John/Sherlock slash. Molly has always had a crush on Sherlock, she just didn't realise that he could never return it because someone had already taken his heart._

* * *

**Bad day was it?**

Molly had always had a crush on Sherlock, ever since she first saw him when he first started working (did he actually work there or did he just use the labs?) at St. Bart's. There was just something about his mysterious personality and of course those dark locks, pale skin and high cheekbones always helped fuel her obvious (to everyone but Sherlock it seemed) crush.

She had tried grabbing his attention. She wore her most stylish clothes to work, applied her make up carefully in the morning and made sure her hair was perfect before she left. She would grant him little favours that he needed (like using the riding crop on the dead body to calculate which bruises formed) and brought him coffee.

She liked when he noticed details about her and it only made her blush and smile ridiculously and give her hope that Sherlock was interested in her and that it was only his stunted social skills that was holding him back from approaching her and asking her out on a date. Molly of course had left hints for Sherlock so that he needn't feel uncomfortable or nervous but so far no luck.

She knew better than to leave hints and flirt with him when he was in the middle of the case. He didn't want to be distracted and she didn't want to distract him incase he missed some crucial evidence and then it would be her fault if the murderer got away. No, she would flirt with him while he was doing some experiments and when his attention could be diverted (which wasn't often).

But lucky for her, one of those days had arrived. She knew Sherlock wasn't working on a case at the moment and was experimenting in his lab and so now was the perfect opportunity to ask Sherlock out. She was tired of waiting for him and decided he needed the push. She had made the consulting detective some coffee and carefully made her way to his lab. She reached his door and took a deep, calming breath. She plastered a smile on her face, suppressing a nervous giggle and opened the door. She stepped in and looked up and nearly dropped the coffee in surprise.

Sherlock Holmes was not alone. A shorter man was leaning against the bench, dressed casually, and was smiling at Sherlock. In Sherlock's lap sat a young boy was was looking through the microscope. Both men turned to look at her when the door had opened and her smile faltered slightly.

"Ah Molly," Sherlock greeted.

"I brought you some coffee," Molly smiled at him, holding up the cup.

"Thank you. Put it on the bench," Sherlock instructed. Molly nodded and moved carefully to the bench and placed it down carefully near the shorter man.

"Whose this?" Molly asked, cocking her head in confusion, her tone hindering on an accusation.

"Oh, I'm Doctor John Watson," the man smiled at her kindly.

Molly smiled and quickly turned her attention back to Sherlock. She was more than surprised to see a young boy sitting in his lap.

"Pretty colours," the boy murmured. The boy went and reached for the sample under the lens but Sherlock quickly grabbed his hands to stop him. The boys looked up, startled.

"You can look, but don't touch," Sherlock told him and the boy pouted.

"You've already corrupted him," John sighed and Sherlock looked to him, confused.

"How so?" Sherlock questioned.

"Next thing you know he'll be doing experiments," John said.

"Is that a bad thing?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course not," John smiled softly. "But you'll be joining him and next thing I know the whole house will be blown up."

"We wouldn't blow up the house," Sherlock protested. "Maybe just his room."

John rolled his eyes and knew that Sherlock was teasing, if only partially. The boy looked between the two men, a confused look on his face. Molly felt just as confused as the boy.

"Is that – is he your boy?" Molly asked Sherlock, shocked.

"Of course he is. Can't you see the resemblance. I rather thought it was obvious," Sherlock answered and Molly felt as if she could faint.

"You have a child," Molly breathed.

"I have learnt that it is what most married couple do. They have children," Sherlock continued. "It is most interesting and never boring."

"You're married?" Molly asked, her voice strained.

"I thought that was obvious too," Sherlock shrugged.

"Who?" Molly asked.

"That would be me," John answered and Molly's neck cracked as she whipped around to face him. She looked at him, _really_ looked at him and whimpered. He was handsome in boyish way and a good strong, sturdy man.

"Oh," Molly breathed. "I – I'm sorry. I- I hadn't realised."

She wanted to cry. It was unfair! Why did all the good ones have to be married or gay (in this case both). All that hard work and using her best flirting techniques only to find out her crush was already taken. It didn't help that John was looking at her sympathetically, as if he knew exactly what was running through her mind right now.

"It's fine," John assured her, his voice soft and gentle. He seemed to be the exact opposite to Sherlock. Or everything that Sherlock was missing. They made a perfect match. She didn't stand a chance in hell. She sighed quietly with dejection.

"Molly? Is there any severed limbs that aren't being used. I would like to try a new experiment that's been on my mind," Sherlock asked, completely oblivious to Molly's internal struggle.

"Er- shall I just go take a look?" Molly asked, her voice wavering.

"Marvellous," Sherlock nodded at her and turned his attention back to the boy who was no longer interested in the blood patterns under the microscope but of an eye dropper he was about to suck on.

"Not good," Sherlock murmured, taking it out of the younger boys grip before he could put it in his mouth. This of course started some teary sniffling and Sherlock shot John a slightly panicked look. John rolled his eyes and went to Sherlock, gently lifting their son off his lap and holding him closely, soothing him gently with some reassuring words that they young boy didn't understand yet, but he he stopped sniffing in response.

Molly quickly and quietly left the lab, her eyes teary. She sniffed and quickly wiped away a stray tear. She had always had a feeling that she would never get Sherlock (not with him being so socially inept) but she had always dreamed that she would be the girl who would worm her way into Sherlock's heart but it seemed another already had.

She sighed and straightened as she heard footsteps. She smiled as man walked passed. Jim, the knew IT man. He smiled back at her shyly and she blushed at the attention. He continued past her and glanced back at her over his shoulder. She smiled again and ducked her head at his attention. She may have lost Sherlock, but that didn't mean she couldn't worm her way back into another man's heart. Maybe this time they would like her back.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed! I love to hear what you guys think so please review! Happy reading! **


	5. White Skulls

**You guys! You keep giving me such amazing reviews and I am forced to write more for you! (not that I'm complaining as I like to write something everyday ;) and you lovely people are so willing to read it!) I love you all and thank you so much for all your amazing feedback and love and support that you have given this! I'm sending you all mental higs right now and if you prefer a mental kiss than you can take one too! **

**Summary**_: Established John/Sherlock slash. It had always been Sherlock and the skull but then John came along much to the skulls displeasure. _

**Umm so once again this has not been looked over by anyone : ( I've haven't been able to get anyone to look over it and my usual beta is so stressed out right now that it's unfair of me to give this to her to look over so all mistakes are mine and I apologize in adavance for them. Please forgive me!**

* * *

**White Skulls **

For a long time it used to be just Sherlock and his skull. The skull would listen to Sherlock rant and go through his deductions, trying to solve the riddle that was worthy of his mind and that had caught his attention for long enough. The skull usually sat above the fire place, hollowed out eyes staring un-blinking at the apartment.

The skull was always thankful that Sherlock sometimes took him out whenever he went to eat at Angelo's, a reprieve from the apartment or when Mrs Hudson hid him in a shoe box at the back of her cupboard. The two of them would get a window seat – the best seat in the house – and Sherlock would place the skull opposite him and talk out his deductions. The skull would attract attention, people giving the two of them odd looks and looks of disgust.

Sherlock never took notice of the looks they received – Sherlock didn't care what people thought about him – but the skull thought it was rather rude of them to stare. After all, they were taking their skulls out for a meal. There's just happened to be encased in their flesh whereas his was long gone.

The skull liked that Sherlock confided in him, talked to him. Some day's Sherlock would be silent for days on end but the skull didn't mind. He was concerned that Sherlock didn't eat much or get much sleep but the man seemed to run fine on his schedule so the skull never brought it up, just continued to stare blindly from his position.

But then one day Sherlock brought someone to the flat. The skull had never seen anyone in Sherlock's home, apart from Mrs. Hudson and his brother Mycroft who often dropped by to make sure that Sherlock wasn't doing drugs – the skull wasn't about to tell him about the times Mycroft didn't know about.

No, this one was someone completely new. He was short with dirty blonde hair and he was a fit man. He looked around the apartment with curiosity and nodded his head.

"I think this will do quite nicely," John agreed, smiling at Sherlock. The skull was surprised when Sherlock's lips quirked up into a small smile and he looked pleased that this stranger was happy with his apartment.

"Welcome to 221B, John," Sherlock smirked and John chuckled. It was times like these that the skull wished that he could still move his jaw to talk. Sherlock didn't even know this man and was asking him to move in? Well – Sherlock knew as much as he had deduced and with his abilities that was quite a lot. It's not that Sherlock hadn't had roommates before, but they usually only lasted three or four days before packing up their things and leaving in a storm. Sherlock hardly noticed their departures and wasn't upset by them. But there was something different about John and the skull wasn't sure what to expect.

* * *

The skull – much to its displeasure – began to like John. At first he had been wary. John never commented on the skull, only once when he had first moved in.

"Friend of mine," Sherlock had told him. "When I say friend..."

That had been the end of the discussion and John hardly brought it up anymore, only noting his disappearance from when Mrs Hudson had taken him again and put him in that blasted shoe box. When Mrs Hudson wasn't placing him in shoe boxes, he watched over the apartment from his place on the mantle above the fire place.

John had started writing a blog about Sherlock's detective skills and the cases that he worked on – often bringing John along with him. The Skull was impressed when clients started coming by and Sherlock was getting less and less bored as John always managed to bring in an interesting client for him from his website. The skull discovered that John was a doctor and worked in a small clinic around the corner and had studied at St. Bart's and was once a army doctor.

The Skull assumed this is how they met. He could just imagine Sherlock getting injured in a case and Mycroft demanding that he seek medical attention and when Mycroft's stern words didn't motivate him Mrs Hudson's mothering would. The skull could picture Sherlock waiting impatiently in the waiting room when finally Doctor John Watson saw him. Sherlock would have deduced much about him and instead of the usual snide remarks and cold looks the doctor would be fascinated and compliment Sherlock.

But the skull didn't know how they met. Sherlock never told him and they hardly discussed their meeting. But the skull liked to imagine different ways that they had met, John always being amazed by Sherlock's abilities because the skull didn't think there was enough people who were amazed by Sherlock and John was always saying it.

"Brilliant," he would breath and Sherlock would give him a calculating look before understanding that John wasn't being sarcastic but genuinely amazed by Sherlock's abilities. Yes, the skull was beginning to like John.

* * *

It was six months after John moved in before the skull witnessed something he probably shouldn't have – after all, it was a private moment. Sherlock had come bursting into the living room, supporting John and dragging him over to the couch and dropping him onto the cushions. John groaned as Sherlock strode into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for something.

"Sherlock," John grunted. "Medical bag in my room."

Sherlock's footsteps hurried upstairs to John's room and so the skull focused his attention on John. There was blood across his forehead and he was rubbing his wrists, wincing and flinching. Obvious head wound and what the skull assumed to be rope burn. What had his boys been up to now? Yes – he saw John as his now. The man had managed to worm his way into his...well, not heart but head, just like he had with Sherlock. The man was a mystery.

Sherlock came striding back with John's medical bag and quickly snapped it open, rifling through everything until he found what he was looking for. Silently, he dapped some liquid on a cloth and began to dap at the wound on John's head. John hissed with pain and Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock apologized.

"It's fine," John assured him. "Just stings is all."

"No, I'm sorry about getting you kidnapped," Sherlock corrected. "I know _this _was going to hurt."

John chuckled as Sherlock's bluntness and his hand came to rest of Sherlock's arm.

"It's not your fault," John told him. "I knew what I was getting into when I moved in with you."

"Why haven't you left?" Sherlock asked, genuinely puzzled. "Nobody has ever stayed my flatmate for as long as you have."

John smiled. "You're my best friend Sherlock. I'm not going to leave you over getting kidnapped or over the severed limbs I'm always finding in the most bizarre places or the fact that Mycroft still keeps offering me money to spy on you."

"You should take the money," Sherlock interrupted. "We could split it."

John just smiled. "I'm not leaving."

"Good," Sherlock said and then leant forward and captured John in a kiss. The skull had not seen this coming – and apparently John hadn't either by the startled gasp he made – but the skull watched as the two melted into the kiss, gently exploring each other. Sherlock pulled away first, searching John's face for a reaction.

"Dilated pupils, flushed, heart beat rapid," Sherlock listed off. "You enjoyed it."

"So did you," John accused.

"Oh, I know I did. I wanted to make sure you did too," Sherlock grinned.

John rolled his eyes and pulled Sherlock back into another kiss, wincing slightly as his temple throbbed. He ended the kiss quickly, panting softly.

"We'll continue this later when I'm not seeing double off you," John told him, going slightly cross-eyed.

"That seems wise," Sherlock agreed and quickly went back to cleaning John up.

Maybe the skull wasn't that sorry he had witnessed their first kiss and the beginning of their relationship.

* * *

If the skull had eyes he would have rolled them at Sherlock but he was left to just stare at him with hollowed out eye sockets.

"We should get married," Sherlock blurted out. John, who had been sitting in his chair reading, lowered his book and stared at Sherlock. He blinked once, twice before speaking.

"You want to get married?" John asked.

"Yes," Sherlock nodded. "I have come to the conclusion that you love me and I love you, therefore, to ensure that you remain mine forever we should married. Statics show that most marriages will end in divorce but you seems to exceed the norm of most social conventions and I am willing to take the risk in hopes that our union does not end in divorce but you have stayed with me for this long so it does not seem inevitable."

John continued to stare.

"Not good?" Sherlock asked, looking worried.

"I thought you said you were married to your work?" John asked, his breathing slightly hitched.

"I am and you have become a part of my work and so much more," Sherlock admitted. "I'm not sure how you have done it. I keep trying to solve how you have come into my life, disrupted it but kept everything perfectly balanced but different."

"The mystery of love," John teased and Sherlock hummed.

"So, will you marry me?' Sherlock asked, looking nervous now.

"How could I possibly say no to that unique romantic proposal of yours," John chuckled, standing up and tugging Sherlock too him. "Of course I'll marry you."

Sherlock beamed and reached into his pocket, producing to rings. He slid one on to John's finger and then the other on to his own before leaning down and kissing John hungrily. The skull mentally smiled to himself and was eternally grateful that Sherlock had found someone as wonderful as John. A phone chimed, causing the two to part. Sherlock pulled out his phone and rolled his eyes.

"Congratulations to the two of you. Celebrations are in order. A car is down stairs for you," Sherlock read aloud. "Mycroft."

"How does he do it?" John asked in wonder but Sherlock had tossed his phone away and pulled John into another kiss.

* * *

Sherlock didn't like to admit it but he was miserable. John had been called away to war, to be an army doctor and John had accepted. He had trained with the army previously before meeting Sherlock and had been called back to active duty. Granted, this meant that the skull was getting more attention than of late but the skull was sad to see John go.

Mycroft visited more often and Sherlock, annoyed by his brother's constant visits had decided – and declared loudly to the skull – that he was going to solve a new case he had seen in the paper and finally give the police a piece of his mind.

"Really Skull, how stupid can they be?" Sherlock asked rhetorically as the skull never answered. "They arrested the daughter! Ha, she couldn't have done it, it's so obvious! Even John could have seen that. Although he is smarter than the rest of the idiots around London."

Sherlock continued to rant as he moved to the kitchen to set up an experiment which would no doubt prove evidence that he had found. Sherlock disappeared then and the Skull wasn't sure when he was due back. Usually John could rope him back to the apartment and make sure he ate something but he was in Afghanistan now. The skull missed John and so did Sherlock.

* * *

The skull nearly rolled off the mantel piece with shock. Surely his hollowed out eyes sockets were deceiving him. A small cry and gurgle proved that the skull was not wrong. John was holding a small baby and Sherlock was smiling. The skull had heard them talking about children but Mrs Hudson had taken him down for a cleaning.

"I'm not their house keeper," she had told him and during his absence he had missed the decision that apparently the two were going to have a baby.

"He's very small," Sherlock hummed, shucking off his coat and hanging it up with his scarf. Now that the skull thought about it, much had changed in the apartment. It was a lot more safe.

"Of course he is," John chuckled.

"You know what I mean," Sherlock huffed and John smiled up at him.

"I know, I'm just teasing," John assured him. "Here, you hold Desmond."

Carefully John handed the small baby over and Sherlock cradled him in his arms, smiling proudly as he was holding him right. John watched the two for a moment before taking off his coat and moving back to Sherlock.

"Perfect," Sherlock murmured and John hummed with agreement. The skull agreed too. Perfect.

* * *

Sweet merciful crap! The world was upside down for the skull and he wished to be back on his mantle piece. He did not like this one bit. Desmond was a curious child and had decided that he quite like playing with the skull. The skull didn't mind but he drew the line at being treated like a bowling ball and being rolled across the floor.

The skull sighed with relief as Sherlock picked him up and gently dusted his cranium.

"Careful Desmond," Sherlock told the boy with a gentle smile. "This is very old."

"'kull! 'kull!" Desmond giggled, making grabby motions at the skull who was wishing that he had arms so he could cling to Sherlock and beg him to put him back on his mantle. He didn't have to since Sherlock did just that and the skull could see the boy's pouting face from where he was sat.

"Later," Sherlock promised and the skull cringed. "Right now, we have to visit your dad at work for your shots."

The skull watched as Sherlock helped Desmond put on his coat and beanie, watching proudly as the boy did up his own buttons carefully. He picked Desmond up and settled him on his hip before walking out and leaving the skull to catch his breath and think of a plan to get Mrs Hudson to take him away before Desmond decided he wanted to taste him like last time.

* * *

**What did you think? Hope you enjoyed becuase I had fun writing it! There will most likely be another chapter and I'm pretty sure it will be about Mrs Hudson so keep an eye out for it (if you're interested)! Happy reading! **


	6. The British Government

**Hi everyone! So I know I said that I would do Mrs Hudson next but Mycroft came and wormed his way in - he got tired of waiting and threatened me with his umbrella! So I had no choice but to write him first! **

**Thank you said so much for all you amazing reviews! You guys are so amazing and I'm glad that you are all enjoying this! I'm having such fun writing this :D **

**Summary:**_ Established John/Sherlock slash. Mycroft always kept an eye on the people in Sherlock's life and John was by far the most interesting. _

**Sorry for the mistakes in here!**

* * *

**The British Government**

Mycroft was constantly worrying about his little brother Sherlock. He had always been a odd child, never developing social skills like the other children and Mycroft was constantly stopping the children from playing pranks on Sherlock and defacing his locker at school. As they grew older and Mycroft secured a high ranking position and Sherlock went off to do his own things, he was able to keep a wider eye on Sherlock and the people who entered his life.

Mycroft had done extensive research on Mrs Hudson when she had offered a special deal to Sherlock on the apartment 221B and was keeping stabs on the apartment building and on Mrs Hudson and was pleased that everything was safe for the time being.

When Sherlock had decided to be a consulting detective Mycroft had upgraded his security to a level two, despite Sherlock's protests.

"I am perfectly capable of looking after myself."

Mycroft knew that he could – both of them had been very independent as children – but it was better to be safe than sorry. Mummy would never forgive him otherwise so it was why he had to keep eye on everyone who entered Sherlock's life. Including John Watson.

* * *

Mycroft had been surprised how the two of them had met. Mike Stanford had brought the army doctor to St. Bart's. Mycroft had been examining the security tapes and saw the meeting. DI Dimmock had been working on a case, inviting Sherlock to work with him, and Mike had brought him in. Sherlock had peered at the shorter man for a few minutes before turning his attention back to Dimmock and rattling of deductions that he had made.

Mike had taken a seat and the shorter man had started looking at some of the papers that Mike was showing him. Sherlock had concluded to Dimmock that the grandfather was the killer when the new arrival spoke up.

"It couldn't have been."

Sherlock slowly turned and looked at the man, looking him up and down.

"Sherlock Holmes," Mike grinned. "Meet John Watson."

"An army doctor," Sherlock deduced. "Why couldn't it have been the grandfather?"

"Well, this is his blood work right?" John asked, looking nervously at Sherlock who gave the barest nod. "He's really sick. He wouldn't have had the strength."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and snatched the paper work out of John's hands and looked over it.

"Of course," Sherlock laughed. "Of course. Clever. Very clever. You, John, are a illuminating stimulus."

"Thank you?" John frowned.

"The brother. He could have easily have framed the grandfather and he doesn't know that his grandfather is sick so that's why he used him for the frame," Sherlock laughed and moved towards the coat rack and pulled on his coat and scarf.

"Are you coming?" Sherlock asked, looking to John. John looked to Mike who shrugged and smiled.

"Where are we going?" John asked, confused.

"To the brother," Sherlock sighed. "We have to question him and you would come in handy since you're a doctor."

John shrugged and made his way to Sherlock, following him out and disappearing off the tape. Mycroft hummed to himself and stopped the tape. He tapped his chin and leant back in his chair. It was time to have a chat with John Watson.

* * *

It wasn't hard to pick John up. Anthea had collected him up and brought him to an abandoned warehouse that had been thoroughly secured. John stepped out of the car, looking around curiously and froze when he saw Mycroft. He moved slowly to him and Mycroft scanned him, looking for as many details as he could.

"Hello," Mycroft greeted. "Take a seat."

John looked at the chair provided but refused.

"No thank you. Sorry, who are you?"

Mycroft ignored the question and continued. "What is your relationship with Sherlock Holmes?"

"Uh – we just met," John frowned. "he need my help. Why do you care?"

"I am...concerned about him," Mycroft explained.

"Okay," John shifted, completely bewildered by the turn of events. "Can I go now."

"No. I'm willing to give you a fee for you to bring me information about Sherlock. You know, what he's been up too, things like that," Mycroft said.

"Yeah, no. Sorry," John declined and Mycroft rose an eyebrow.

"No?"

"Yeah. You can spy on Sherlock all you want, I won't be a part of it," John told him firmly.

"You like him," Mycroft frowned. "You think your his friend."

John said nothing.

"Very well. I'll be seeing you," Mycroft said, lifting his umbrella up over his shoulder and walked away. He thoughts had not left John though. The man was interesting, intriguing and it was interesting to see how long John lasted –certainly the others didn't last long.

* * *

John was proving to be a diamond in the ruff. Sherlock, much to Mycroft's surprise, had become rather attached to John. They went to dinner at Angelo's and Mycroft was surprised to see that Sherlock was eating – the man never ate while on a case as it slowed him down. John even helped Sherlock out on cases – which Mycroft was glad as that skull of his always attracted attention that Mycroft rather he didn't have.

It would seem that the two had become friends, something that Mycroft was grateful for as Sherlock didn't have friends and pissed off a lot of people.

_Perhaps I have underestimated the army doctor _Mycroft thought surprisingly.

Mycroft's second kidnapping of John wasn't as subtle as he had hoped as Sherlock had found them quite easily- granted he had been taken to his office so he hadn't put that much effort into it.

"I would appreciate you stop harassing John," Sherlock drawled, dropping onto a seat next to John.

"It's fine Sherlock," John assured him. "well – no, but at least he's not holding me a gun point."

"Mycroft has much more class than that," Sherlock sneered and Mycroft glared at Sherlock.

"I am merely talking to John, seeing how you are both doing," Mycroft explained. "You don't tell me anything so I have to find my own ways. Besides, you know it makes mummy happy."

"You're the one who upsets mummy," Sherlock past back childishly and John rolled his eyes.

* * *

Sherlock had never come to Mycroft for help so it was a complete surprise when Sherlock showed up to his office, face paler than usual and looking distressed.

"John has been kidnapped," Sherlock told him. "I need your help to access the security cameras outside baker street."

"Of course," Mycroft nodded and went to his computer, finger clacking at the keyboard. Sherlock moved around to see the screen and images of John was already up the screen. The attack happened quickly but Sherlock's eyes were sharp and calculating as he took in everything that was happening on the screen.

"Shouldn't be hard to track them down," Mycroft murmured.

"I already know where they are going," Sherlock said, eyes never leaving the screen.

"You should tell him," Mycroft said, straightening, never looking at Sherlock. "He won't wait forever."

Sherlock said nothing and straightened too. He nodded once at Mycroft and strode out, cloak billowing out behind him.  
Later that night Mycroft smirked as he watched Sherlock supporting John out of the taxi, arms wrapped around him firmly, keeping John up right. It was clear that John was injured and knew that Sherlock wouldn't waste anymore time.

* * *

By the time John and Sherlock got married in a simple ceremony that had Mycroft and Mrs Hudson as their witnesses. Mycroft knew that John was a very special man and Sherlock was very lucky that the man had stumbled into his life. Mycroft knew that John would be good for Sherlock, keeping him out of trouble and keeping from destroying half of London when he got bored.

Perhaps he would send a little something to Mike Stanford, after all, it was all thanks to him that the two met and were now together. Mycroft would be upgrading their security status to level three for Sherlock would never forgive the world if something happened to John Watson and neither would Mycroft.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed and happy reading!**


	7. Not the house keeper

**Summary:**_Established Sherlock/John slash. Mrs Hudson loved Sherlock but she also loved that John loved Sherlock. _

**Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

**Not the housekeeper **

Mrs Hudson had been fond of Sherlock ever since he had ensured her husband's execution and had moved into 221B Baker Street. He was a little off –with his lack of social etiquette – but so smart and he looked out for her in his own special way. Mrs Hudson was aware of the relationship between Sherlock and his brother Mycroft and with Sherlock's lack of friends she worried about him.

She thought when the police – that Lestrade fellow – had started calling him more often about police work that he would start to make friends within Scotland Yard but no such luck. Anderson and Donavan hated Sherlock, always tossing snide remarks at him. Lestrade was sort of his friend – but Sherlock denied that he had friends and that he didn't need them. Until he met John Watson.

* * *

Mrs Hudson had been thrilled when Sherlock had told her he had found someone interested in sharing a flat with him to help pay the rent. Sherlock had brought John around the next day and Mrs Hudson knew instantly that John was something special.

He was boyishly handsome with his sandy blonde hair and stockier build. He smiled warmly at Mrs Hudson and shook her hand firmly.

"Mrs Hudson, this is John Watson. He's an army doctor," Sherlock informed her.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you dear," Mrs Hudson smiled. "Our Sherlock can be a bit of a handful."

John blushed when she said 'our Sherlock' and stammered out a response much to Sherlock's confusion. Mrs Hudson giggled to herself and allowed Sherlock to go show John around the apartment. She was surprised - but not unhppy - when John moved in the next day.

John sat at Mrs Hudson's kitchen table sulkily, sipping at his tea and staring at it sadly.

"I heard you and Sherlock having a little domestic," Mrs Hudson smiled sympathetically at him. "I'm sure he'll come around soon."

"We're not together," John told her sadly and Mrs Hudson frowned.

"Well – not yet. You know how Sherlock is, his mind always on his experiments," Mrs Hudson sighed. "But he's getting better. You've taught him so much."

John looked up at her surprised. "Me? Teach Sherlock?"

"Of course dear," Mrs Hudson laughed. "His social skills have improved immensely. He even said thank you to me the other day when I dusted for you. But remember, I'm you land lady not your house keeper."

John smiled at this and took another sip of his tea. Mrs Hudson winced as she sat down, her hip giving her more trouble than usual today.

"You just have to give him some time," she continued. "He'll figure it out eventually."

"He's my only friend," John told her quietly and Mrs Hudson reached out and patted his hand.

"It will all work out," she assured him.

She was right of course. A few nights later John had been kidnapped and Sherlock had dashed off to rescue you him. Mrs Hudson had headed up to 221B to check on them and she put a hand over her mouth to stifle the excited squeal that threatened to busrt right out of her. Sherlock was gently cleaning the wound on John's head, occasionally placing a kiss on his lips, murmuring apologies and comfort. She backed away to give them some privacy, smiling for the rest of the night.

* * *

Mrs Hudson had always wanted to be a grandmother and she was not quite that she was thrilled when Sherlock and John decided to have a child. John's sister Harry – who wanted to prove to John that she wanted him in his life and to prove that she was trying to get better – offered to be a surrogate for the two of them.

John had been reluctant but Sherlock had started to reel of facts and figures and John caved easily. And so, for nine months, Harry carried their child. The birth went smoothly and an exhausted Harry handed over their new baby boy.

Mrs Hudson had spent time helping the boys make sure that the apartment was safe for a baby and was there when they brought him home.

"Desmond," John told her, handing the bundle over for her to hold. "Desmond Holmes-Watson."

"Oh he's precious," Mrs Hudson cooed. She looked up to Sherlock and John who had their warms wrapped around each other's waist, both smiling brightly.

* * *

John had been called back to Afghanistan as an army doctor, leaving Sherlock to raise Desmond by himself. Sherlock hadn't wanted John to go for several reasons. Sherlock was doubtful that he was a good parent and he needed John in ways that he had never needed someone before.

"Don't worry dear," Mrs Hudson had assured them both. "I'll help you look after Desmond but remember I'm your land lady, not your house keeper."

John hadn't wanted to go but duty call and he couldn't say no. He tried not to cry but a few tears slipped out as he bid his family goodbye. He pulled Sherlock into a firm kiss, tasting him for the last time until they were reunited again. With a heavy heart he climbed into the car and headed off to war.

Mrs Hudson spent a lot of time with Desmond while Sherlock solved cases and pretended not to brood. Mycroft was around a lot more, occasionally holding Desmond. Sherlock would make an effort to be back at night so that he could care for Desmond and tried not to be out all times off the day. He relied on his homeless network a lot more these days.

John would never forgive him if he took their son to a crime scene or got him injured in anyway. Mrs Hudson climbed the stairs to Desmond's cries and she sighed sympathetically. She peeked in and saw Sherlock holding Desmond, bouncing him up and down and dancing around the room trying to sooth him.

"Don't cry," Sherlock hummed. "Please. You're not hot or cold, you're not hungry and you're not tired. Either am I but I'm not crying although you are making me want to cry. Why are you crying?"

Mrs Hudson took pity on Sherlock and came in.

"Hello darlings," she smiled. "Having a bad day are we?"

"He won't stop crying and I have done everything," Sherlock told her, looking at her pleadingly. There were very few times that Sherlock asked for help. Usually it was John who provided the answer but he was still away at war. Mrs Hudson smiled at the thought.

"Perhaps the two of you are suffering the same thing," Mrs Hudson told him. Sherlock looked at her confused.

"What?"

"You miss John," Mrs Hudson chuckled lightly.

"Oh," Sherlock hummed, looking to Desmond who looked back, sniffling with tears running down his cheeks. "Of course. John is very missed."

"He'll be home soon," Mrs Hudson assured him. "Don't you worry about that."

John came home not long after that day, having been shot in the arm. Mrs Hudson had been looking after Desmond at the time and Sherlock – per John's instructions – had informed he to bring herself and Desmond over for a visit.

Mrs Hudson had missed John and had told him as much. She loved Sherlock, but she loved that John loved Sherlock. The two were made for each other so alike but so different at the same time. The completed each other and Mrs Hudson knew that they would be together forever.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed and please review! Next up will the be the Homeless Network! Happy reading!**


	8. The homless network

**Hey guys! Thank you so much for your reviews on the last chapter! Glad that you liked it and I can't thank you enough for the support you have given this :D I really hope you enjoy this chapter as I had fun writing it (then again I enjoy writing anything) :D **

**Sorry for any mistakes throughout this! **

**I don't have anything else really to say so let's crack on shall we?**

**Summary:**_ Established Sherlock/John. The homeless always saw everything. Sherlock was no exception. _

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**The Homeless Network **

The streets of London were cold and dark. Most people just saw what they looked for; buildings, trees, roads but the homeless always saw more than everybody else. This was a survival technique, to find the best food and the warmest of places to sleep during the cold nights. Everyone avoided the homeless as if it was a disease you could catch but not Sherlock Holmes.

The man had wormed his way into the homeless network like no other had ever before. He usually got them off small petty crimes and paid them for their troubles. He slowly became trusted among them and had made good contacts with them. He had even managed to get a few of them jobs and get them off the streets. For his troubles they rewarded him with information. They knew the streets of London like the back of their hands and nobody paid attention to the homeless so they were invisible.

Tess was among the first to trust Sherlock when he helped her out in exchange for information which she had quickly acquired. She had spread the word about Sherlock and the others had slowly come forth and allowed Sherlock into their little circle.

Blankets had started to appear and Sherlock had rolled his eyes and muttered 'Mycroft' when they had questioned him about it but they brushed it off, just thankful to be warmer. It was Tess who was the first to be asked about a surveillance job on a Doctor John Watson.

* * *

Tess discreetly watched the doctor leave the practice and shove his gloved hands deep into his pockets, shoulder hunched against the chilly air. Tess eyes narrowed at the man but she didn't comment. He hardly looked like a criminal and that was who Sherlock usually had them tail. She had been watching him for the past two days and was on to her third. He approached her and she let her face relax and she rattled a paper cup.

"Spare change?" she asked, her voice hopeful. She may as well earn a little bit of cash from the man if she could.

John paused and fished around in his pocket before pulling out a note and sliding into the cup. He smiled at her and she nodded, a small smile gracing her lips.

"Thank you sir."

"Stay warm," John nodded and continued on his way. Several taxi's drove past and she was surprised that John didn't get one. She knew he didn't live close by and had seen him take several taxi's home from work before hand. She looked into the cup and saw that he had given her a twenty pound note. He had given up his taxi money.

Tess mouth dropped a little and she watched as he turned a corner and disappeared. Just who has Sherlock got her following?

* * *

"Spare change?" Tess asked, looking up at the tall dark figure who had appeared out of nowhere.

Sherlock dropped some change into her cup and she nodded at him.

"He works at a clinic. Gave me his taxi money home. Nice bloke and there was no sign of criminal activity," Tess explained to Sherlock.

"I would expect nothing else from an army doctor," Sherlock hummed, looking pleased by the information.

"Who is he?" Tess asked curiously. Normally she didn't want to know about Sherlock's cases or who the people she followed were but something about John had spiked her curiosity.

"Hopefully my new roommate," Sherlock told her quietly and turned on his heel, disappearing quickly.

_Roommates, _Tess thought interestedly.

* * *

Tess and the rest of the homeless network began to keep an eye out on Sherlock and his new friend John. The hovered around Baker Street and caught glimpses of John and Sherlock walking home together or going out. They would stand close together and John would listen to Sherlock's latest experiments with interest. It was a lot different from the way the police treated Sherlock at crime scenes.

The police – especially a certain two – were always commenting rudely on Sherlock's abilities and so forth. The homeless network did not appreciate it and so they made sure that they understood that Sherlock was not to be messed with by camping out in their backyards for a week and stealing their biscuits.

John though, was different. He was amazed at Sherlock and they could see the looks of longing that Sherlock missed and decided that maybe he needed a little push.

"How's John?" Tess asked as Sherlock handed her a piece of paper with an address on it.

"John is well," Sherlock answered, peering at her curiously. "Don't think I haven't noticed you observing us."

"Just making sure that he's good to you," Tess shrugged. "Unlike those policemen. Tossers they are."

"Yes, I heard about how their biscuits keep disappearing and rubbish is left in their backyards," Sherlock smirked at Tess who shrugged again.

"John's a good bloke," Tess told him. "He likes you too."

"Pardon?" Sherlock asked, his gaze sharp.

"He likes you," Tess repeated. "Can't blame him. You should think about it."

Tess stood and wriggled into her large coat. She grabbed her trolly and started pushing it away, leaving Sherlock standing there alone with a confused expression.

* * *

Tess was waiting on the corner, shaking her cup and John started approaching her, walking back from his shift at the clinic.

"Spare change?" She asked and John smiled at her. He reached in and pulled out some money and a piece of paper.

"From Sherlock too," John told her and she nodded. John continued on his way and Tess looked at the paper.

_It appears I owe you for helping me. Name your price. _

"Oi!" Tess called out and John paused. She hurried to John and looked around.

"Tell Sherlock it's on the house," she said. John looked confused but didn't question it.

"Alright. Stay warm," John smiled and continued on his way. Tess smiled back and went back to her corner.

* * *

Tess looked up and frowned as Sherlock and John approached her. John was holding a small child in his arms, all three of them bundled up to keep warm.

"Tess," Sherlock greeted. "I have someone else you need to keep an eye out on for me."

"Who is it this time?" Tess asked.

"Our son, Desmond," Sherlock said, wrapped an arm around John and smiling. Tess's eyes widened with surprise but she peered at the young boy who gurgled at her happily. She smiled back and looked between the two men.

"Congratulations," she nodded. "I'll spread the word to keep an eye out for little Desmond."

"Thank you," John smiled brightly. "You know there'll be trouble if he takes after Sherlock."

Sherlock huffed and shifted. "I hardly get into trouble."

"You were nearly strangled to death just yesterday," John frowned.

"I had everything under control," Sherlock informed him.

"Except your breathing," John shot back and Sherlock huffed. Tess shook her head at the two of them. They were truly something else.

"I'll spread the word," Tess said, breaking up their bickering. Sherlock nodded and tightened his grip on John and led them away. Tess smiled and was glad that Sherlock had found some like John.

"Spare change?" she asked a passing couple that ignored her. The world needed more people like John.

* * *

**What did you think? Hope you enjoyed! This will probably be the last one for a while unless inspiration strikes me :D Happy reading! **


	9. By any other name

**Hello everyone! I know I haven't updated this story in a while and to be honest I wasn't going to be writing anymore chapters for it but I have had a few people request more chapters and so I figured why not :) Now, nobody requested this one but I thought it would be a good one to kick things off again. I apologise for any mistakes that are in here and I hope you all enjoy :)**

**Summary: **_Despite being on her phone constantly, Anthea was a lot more observant than people gave her credit for. _

**By any other name**

* * *

She liked her job, the deviousness, the way her name change constantly for her own protection as well as Mycroft's. Although she was attached to her phone constantly, she was a lot more observant than people gave him credit for.

All though Sherlock gave off the air of a serial killer and lacked all social etiquette, Anthea held a certain like for him, the same likeness she held for her boss. She also had a soft spot for John. She had been present for the conversation between Sherlock and Mycroft when John had first come into his life, though she may as well have been invisable the way the two acted around her.

Mycroft, much to Sherlock's displeasure, had picked Sherlock up during one of his investigations, right off the crime scene.

"What do you want Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, looking at him pointedly. "Tips to stick to your diet?"

"My diet is fine," Mycroft drawled. "I'm here to speak to you about John."

"What about him?" Sherlock asked, leaning back in the car seat.

"Do be careful Sherlock," Mycroft warned. "You don't have friends, what makes you think that John will stay any longer than the others?"

Anthea enjoyed the sibling banter between the two. Other's would think that they were cold towards each other but Anthea knew better. Their relationship was different to what people deemed ordinary and expected but it worked for the two of them and that is what mattered.

"John is...different," Sherlock said. "Not that it's any of your business anyway."

"Mummy would be so angry if I let something happen to you," Mycroft said and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Do mind your own business Mycroft," Sherlock drawled. "Or better yet, keep track of the business going on in the country."

"I already am," Mycroft hummed, brushing off an imaginary lint from his jacket.

"Drop me off Mycroft," Sherlock growled. "I have work to do."

The car pulled off to the side and Sherlock jumped out quickly, slamming the door shut behind him. The car pulled away from the curb and merged back into traffic.

"Make a note," Mycroft said and Anthea lifted her head, fingers pausing on the keys of her phone. "I want any information on John Watson."

"Right away sir," she said and went back to her phone.

* * *

John was the first person to acknowledge her presence and try to make conversation with him. Usually they ignored her and talked as if she wasn't there. Most people forgot she was there and tended to spill secrets around her that she could use for later if the need arose.

Anthea was taking him to an abandoned warehouse, per Mycroft's instructions. Anthea made little conversation to John – she wasn't being paid to socialise with potential threats – but she subtly took in everything about John. He had given up expecting any answers from her but still kept up a one-sided conversation. It was a nice break from the usual silent car rides she was used to.

She took in John's appearance, boyishly handsome, nothing outstanding, ordinary and she wondered what had attracted Sherlock to him in the first place. When they pulled into the warehouse, Anthea stayed in the car but lowered her phone, peering out the tinted window. Most people tended to break under Mycroft's scrutiny. The man projected power in his actions and calm nature. John, however, didn't seem fazed in the slightest and Anthea wondered if maybe this was what had attracted Sherlock, but she couldn't be sure.

Their conversation didn't last long and Anthea went back to her phone. John slid in the and the car took off, heading back out on to the streets of London.

"Is he always like that?" John asked. Anthea said nothing, typing away at her phone. "Is he your boss?"

"Yes," she answered, but to which question John wasn't sure and didn't bother to ask again, knowing he wouldn't get an answer. Anthea smirked to herself. There was more to John than what he first gave, he was catching on quickly, knowing when to ask questions and when not too. Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

On the journey back, it appeared that John mumbled under his breath, but was unaware that he did it. Anthea picked up words such as 'Sherlock', 'Characters', 'Enemy'. His tone indicated that he wasn't scared, but that he was concerned about him, worried for him.

He already begun to trust the man and he had only known him a short time. Anthea smirked at her phone and John looked out the window, oblivious.

* * *

When John had been kidnapped, Anthea had been in the office when Sherlock had come barging in, demanding that Mycroft show him security camera's. It was the first time that she had seen Sherlock looked distress. It was an odd look to see on Sherlock and she wondered if John had managed to inflict emotions on to Sherlock.

Keeping track of potential romantic interests was not a part of Anthea's job and she didn't have the taste for it but couldn't deny that she was curious to see whether anything would come of John and Sherlock. Not that she would tell anybody, she had a reputation to up keep.

"I need you to book a small hall, level three security," Mycroft told her.

"Anywhere in particular?" she asked, already looking for places with her phone.

"Somewhere out of the city," Mycroft said. "For a wedding."

"Sherlock and John?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Mycroft murmured. "Seems there is someone out there for everyone."

Anthea quickly found a place and booked it, before anybody could and gave the details to Mycroft who nodded, pleased with the place.

* * *

Anthea had seen and heard many things with her job. A lot of them were surprising, not making sense, dangerous and sometimes downright stupid but what surprised her the most was that Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had a child.

She didn't think that either of them were the parenting type but if she had to chose she would say that John more so than Sherlock.

"I need level three protection for Desmond Holmes-Watson," Mycroft told her one evening and Anthea had nearly dropped her phone – a first after everything she had heard.

"Of course sir," Anthea nodded. "Congratulations on becoming an uncle."

"Hmm," Mycroft hummed. "I suppose I am. Sherlock will be pleased."

Anthea smothered her giggle. At least the sibling rivalry was still present. It would seem that there were some things that John Watson could change. Despite her usual lack of interest in trivial romantic issues that she usually had, she was intrigued by Sherlock and John who kept surprising her in ways her job no longer could. She liked this. Her first years at Mycroft's assistant had been trying, but she had grown a harder shell and nothing surprised her anymore.

They were a mystery and Anthea liked this, it kept her on her toes and she was also waiting for the next security level or booking or any pick up Mycroft made her do that revolved around Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed and please review :) I will be doing Moriaty and maybe Sherlock's mother :)**


	10. Daddy's had enough now

**Oh wow! Thank you so much for all your reviews and all the support you have given this story! My inbox was crazy full with new alerts for favourites and story alerts! You have no idea how much I'm smiling right now! Thank you so much and I'm so glad that you are all enjoying this! This chapter is Jim Moriarty which many people have asked for so I hope I did it justice. There is not a lot of dialgoue in here and I hope I captured his character alright. **

He_ was looking for the perfect game, a person to match his intellect, someone to give him a challenge but not surpass him. He thought Sherlock was the one, he just didn't account for John._

* * *

**Daddy's had enough now**

He was bored, surrounded but the dullest of people, who only used their brains for the bare minimum when they could achieve so much more if only they tried. He was looking for someone to play with him, keep his intelligence intact and not left to rot, to make a challenge for him, to keep him occupied.

He had searched, played against opponents but none would ever hold a candle to Sherlock Holmes. Jim had heard of him before, he started as young as he had himself. He was the Yin to his Yang, they were a pair. He would be the one to really challenge him and from what he had seen of Sherlock, he would enjoy it himself.

He began to spy, to gather information to set tasks specific for Sherlock. Oh and it was delicious. Sherlock had no idea that he was being watched, no idea that a storm was brewing for his own delight. Sherlock was everything that Jim had been searching for, everything that would test him to his limits, show the world that he was the best and that nothing could stop him. And so the game begun.

* * *

He set his first test, the pathetic cabbie who thought himself an unappreciated genius. Jim used this to his advantage and helped the man make some money for his children and in the process, catch Sherlock's attention. And how beautiful it went. Sherlock took the bait and began to leg it around London, following leads, his mind turning so much faster than everyone else's, leaving the police in his dust.

It sent a shiver down his spine, a jolt of pleasure to see him work. Oh how beautiful it was, so delicious that he couldn't wait. Yes, Sherlock was perfect for him. But Jim knew better than to leave everything in the hands of a pathetic cabbie. Not that he cared about the life of a cabbie, or the life of anybody but himself.

The cabbie did play his part well, very nearly getting Sherlock to take the pill. He hadn't counted on someone coming to save Sherlock. Sherlock was too much like himself, no friends, his intellect classed him above everybody else. So who had saved Sherlock?

* * *

The Black Lotus, an easy gang to become involved in, so eager for their name to be feared but to remain anonymous. Now this would be a challenge for Sherlock, to crack the biggest crime circle in Asia. The thought brought glee to Jim and so he payed the way for them into London and watched the challenge begin. However...

Sherlock was smart, so much smarter than Jim had first thought and he groaned and cackled with glee. Mistress Yang was good, moving about the streets of London undetected and the coded messages were a nice touch. But Jim watched as it began to fall apart and Mistress Yang had screwed it up.

She was ruthless, yes, but not as bright as advertised. She had mistaken the identity of Sherlock with another man. John Watson. Jim hadn't paid much attention to him, hadn't done much research on the man. He was a nobody, far too dull for Sherlock Holmes, but perhaps he had underestimated the army doctor. Sherlock hadn't shown much interest in saving others before but he had done his hardest to find this John.

Jim was not pleased with this. Sherlock didn't have friends, he was like Jim, so who was this John Watson and why was he so important to Sherlock?

* * *

He took a job at the hospital, posing in IT to get closer to Sherlock. All his research had not prepared him for what he had found. Jim watched with glaring eyes as he witnessed Sherlock crowd John up against a wall and kiss him deeply. John eagerly returned the kiss, humming into it.

That was not the worst part. Oh no. Jim had seen John leave, holding a small child in his arms, that shared features of Sherlock and John. It was not possible. Jim had seen Sherlock, seen how his mind worked and how he acted. He lacked social etiquette, unable to blend into society like Jim could, which made him even more dangerous.

Jim could not have this. He needed Sherlock at his best, he needed to be challenged with Sherlock at his greatest and it seemed that John was suppressing his greatness. Well, Jim could take care of that easily.

* * *

It was time for the real games to begin. The cabbie, the black lotus; they had just been the warm up acts. This was going to test Sherlock and it was going to break him. He watched with pride and was impressed at Sherlock unravelled his riddles, used his mind. The way he bounded about, his mind whirling. It was so sexy that Jim just wanted to devour him. Oh how he had never felt such pleasure and joy from someone.

He sneered when Sherlock allowed John to take a lead on one of the cases, the man's mine so simple that his ideas were ridiculous. But Jim hadn't seen it coming. John had distracted him, taken his eyes away from Sherlock and he had missed that Sherlock had already figured it out, hours ago and was merely trying to get ahead in the game. It was time for John to go, so that the game could have the last two players standing.

Jim escalated his plans. It was too easy to capture John.

"Hello," Jim greeted him as he strapped the bomb to his chest. "It's such a pleasure to meet Sherlock's pet."

John said nothing but glared at him. Jim admired his strength, his lack of fear in the face of death but he expected no less from a soldier.

"You've been such an unexpected twist in my game," Jim continued, looking amused. "I liked it. Shaking things up. You are a surprise."

Jim laughed and pushed John into a van before slamming the door shut on him. They took him to the pool, Sherlock's request, a nice touch Jim thought. He sent John out first and grinned with joy at the hurt look that crossed Sherlock's face before he saw the bomb and Jim could see that his heart was breaking, despite the lack of facial expressions. The pain was so clear in his eyes.

And so he introduced himself, so ready for Sherlock to know him. They banted, he threatened. He gave Sherlock one last chance to see his beloved before he would be thrown back into the game. Sherlock was his, they belonged together. He would destroy John not knowing that he would destroy Sherlock in the process too and that he would lose his first place in the game.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed and please review :) I'm not sure who I will be doing next so it will be a surprise :) **


	11. The queen of the holmes

**Sorry it took me so long to update this! I have so much going on right now it's insane! But I finally managed to get this chapter up so I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes that are in here. **

**I have started a live journal account where I will be posting my stories on too (just incase, always nice to have spares)  
On live Journal I am: ink_inmy_heart. So far I have only posted spome of my Merlin one-shots but I will be posting more. **

**Summary: **_Mrs Holmes, of fondly known as Mummy, wanted what any mother wants; for her boys to be happy. It seemed that John Watson was good for both of them._

* * *

**The queen of the Holmes **

Mummy Holmes was every bit as brilliant as her children; where do you think they got there charm, brilliance and good looks from? Certainly not from their father – not that the man was handsome because he was, extremely so but Mummy liked to take credit for her boys.

She was proud of her boys, Mycroft getting into the government and Sherlock becoming a consulting detective. But she worried about her boys. They only had each other, neither of them involved in a romantic relationship and as much as they like to prove they disliked each other, mummy knew better. They were protective of each other, Mycroft more so to Sherlock but she was proud of them.

She had heard of their passing fancies. Sherlock was an odd duckling, gaining his father's lack of social skills – the one thing their father couldn't teach them – and because of this, he had very few people in his life.

Growing up he didn't have friends and Mycroft spent a lot of his time keeping people away from him who intended to hurt him because he was so different. Now that they were older, Mycroft had informed her of the few people in Sherlock's life but there was only a few who were permanent.

She just wanted her babies to be happy and have everything, including love.

* * *

"Hello Sherlock," mummy smiled, the phone pressed to her ear as she sat in the bay window, looking out as the rain cascaded down. She was alone in the Holmes manner – there hadn't been a Mr Holmes for a few years now.

"Mother," Sherlock deep voice came from the end of the line and she smiled.

"I want you to come and visit me," she said, getting straight to the point. She had learnt long ago that there was no point in small talk with Sherlock, he would have none of it.

"Why?"

"Because I haven't seen my boys for some time," mummy smirked. "No excuses Sherlock, you will come down this weekend."

"Fine," Sherlock sulked.

"Oh and dear, bring John along with you," mummy smirked and she heard Sherlock's intake of breath. "See you Friday evening."

She hung up and laughed to herself. Mycroft had told her about Sherlock's new boyfriend – a John Watson, army doctor – and she was intrigued about the man who had managed to work his way into both her son's lives. Especially Sherlock's.

* * *

John Watson was not the man she had pictured him to be. She wasn't sure who exactly she was picturing but she knew this wasn't it. He looked so...ordinary. He was handsome but not a stop and stare handsome. Average handsome.

He was shorter than Sherlock and gazed around the manner with awe – obviously from a middleclass family. Sherlock stepped forward and kissed his mother lightly on the cheek, no emotion on his face but she could see warmth in his eyes.

"Mummy, meet Doctor John Watson," Sherlock introduced. John looked to her and smiled shyly, going to her. He shook her hand lightly and she gazed over him, taking in all the details that she could. Mycroft hovered in the background, standing as straight as always.

"Nice to meet you," John said politely.

"It's a pleasure," mummy said, smiling. She was beautiful, same dark hair as Sherlock with her high cheekbones. John felt very ordinary in the Holmes presences but wasn't too worried about that. Sherlock's feelings was all that mattered to him.

"Sherlock, Mycroft, put the bags away," she instructed, linking arm with John and began leading them towards the kitchen. "We are going to make some tea."

Sherlock glared at his mother's retreating form, his eyes watching John warily.

"Relax Sherlock," Mycroft drawled as he picked up a couple of bags. "She doesn't bite."

* * *

Mummy Holmes was a beautiful and brilliant as Sherlock and he was slowly relaxing in her company. They had made tea together and he was happy to see that she wore her emotions on her sleeve and was a lot more open than the Holmes brothers but could still be devious and private when she needed to be.

Although John seemed to be ordinary, he was anything but and mummy was slowly beginning to see what Sherlock saw in him. He was the exact opposite of Sherlock but the blended so well together it was beautiful. John seemed to be able to stop Sherlock from getting into too much trouble and she was happy to know that he was no longer smoking or doing drugs.

She hadn't been happy about that.

He even kept her boys from fighting which they often did. He wasn't brilliant but he was smart and strong. Most people would have coward meeting the parents but John faced it like a pro and didn't show any fear. She assumed that was the army training in him.

Mummy learnt that John was anything but ordinary and although his heart now belonged to Sherlock, he wasn't the only Holmes brother that benefited from his presence.

* * *

She wasn't surprised to hear that John was still in Sherlock's life and that they were now getting married. There was no way that she was missing the wedding and was glad when Mycroft had hired a large place near the Homes manner. The ceremony had been simple but there was no doubt that the two were in love. Sherlock even had a smile on his face all day, no need for hiding his emotions or to be afraid of them.

John was there for him now and would always be there for him. Mummy smiled as she watched the two of them dance. Sherlock had said it was trivial but John wanted to indulge him, just this once and he agreed. Mummy could see him enjoying himself and smiled warmly at John.

She stood, going to them and cutting in, taking John's hands and danced with her new son in law.

"You'll take care of him," Mummy told him and John nodded.

"Of course," he promised.

"I may not seem as cold as Sherlock," she warned him, showing her teeth in a smile and John gulped. "But I do hate to see my boys upset about anything."

The warning was clear: hurt Sherlock and John would be running for his life.

"You scare me more than the war ever did," John told her and she laughed.

"A sensible man," she smiled. "I wish you and Sherlock all the happiness in the world."

"Thank you," John nodded and Sherlock swooped in again, gently pushing John aside to dance with his mother – John happily let them dance and went and got a stiff drink.

"I do wish everyone would stop threatening my John," Sherlock said coldly and mummy smirked.

"He's not going anywhere dear and I was just checking," she shrugged.

"I know he's not," Sherlock told her. "He if was he would have left by now."

They smiled at each other and she kissed her son's cheek.

* * *

Desmond was a wonderful surprise and mummy adored him, spoiling him rotten. She had been allowed to babysit the boy a few times and she admitted that it was nice to have a child back in the house again.

He had Sherlock's looks and brilliance, but he also had John's compassion, strength and love. He was an amazing child and a reflection of Sherlock's and John's love that nobody would be able to take from them.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed and please review :) It's not my best work but I'm happy with it. Happy reading **


	12. The Woman

**Hey guys! So i was going to post this yesterday but I got busy and by the time I got home from work I was too tired to do it! So sorry for not updating sooner but better late than never. **

**I have had a lot of people ask for Irene Adler and I have finally gotten to it so this chapter is about the woman. Sorry for any mistakes in here and I hope you all enjoy!**

**Summary: **_She fancied herself mysterious but there was no one more mysterious than Sherlock Holmes and his relationship with John Watson._

* * *

**The Woman **

She was a bad girl, a mysterious woman. It's what attracted men and women to her. Make them lose their inhabitations and let her do whatever she wanted. It's how she extracted information for her protection so that she could have people on her side when she needed them. Her phone was her life line, her armour.

She could have any man or women she wanted. She knew how to play the game, she was the best but she was surprised when she was introduced to Sherlock Holmes and suddenly the game wasn't as fun anymore, it was a challenge and one that she was losing.

* * *

The simpering priest was a good cover and she was everything she had heard about him. Oh how she loved walking in naked, giving him a shock.

"It's hard to remember and alias when you get a shock," she smirked and crossed the room to sit on the couch. His eyes trailed over her and she felt a thrill go through her. She loved the look the men got, the look of disbelief of her flawless skin. Sherlock was good at masking his emotions and she couldn't see any arousal on his face.

Then doctor John Watson came in and Sherlock snapped his to his. Her eyes widened and she tried to keep the surprise off her face. John looked between the two of them, his posture going defensive. Sherlock's face finally became animated as he looked John, a slight crinkling of his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Miss Adler was expecting us," Sherlock said and John nodded, sitting down beside him. He shook his head and began dapping at Sherlock's wounds. Sherlock turned his attention back to Irene but she had a hard trying to keep her cool and calm manner.

* * *

She expected a greater response from Sherlock with her fake death, she was not expecting the reactions from John.

"There is no normal with you," John yelled, his voice echoing around the warehouse. "What have you been texting him?"

"Just the usual," Irene said, picking up her phone. "I asked him out for dinner."

"You asked...you asked my husband to dinner?" John asked, his anger visible.

"Husband...you're married to Sherlock?" Irene asked, unable to stop the surprise crossing her face. Well that was new.

"Yes," John drawled. "You didn't know?"

Irene said nothing and John looked surprised. "Whatever you are trying to gain, leave my husband out of it."

John turned around and left. Irene bit her bottom lip and typed a message to Sherlock, asking him to dinner and telling him she wasn't dead. A moan filled the warehouse and her eyes widened. He had heard everything.

* * *

Sherlock was smarter than she gave him credit and everything about him not having a heart was wrong, but he wasn't fooled by her tricks. He had already given his whole heart away to John, he kept it safe and there was no way she was getting in there.

Everything was ruined, she would be dead soon any way, now that she had lost her protection. At least Mycroft would help her disappear but then she was on his own.

Before she could leave London though, John had found her. She couldn't keep the surprise off her face this time and John looked around the tiny room.

"I told you to leave Sherlock out of your game," John said and Irene shrugged.

"I had too," she said. "I had no choice. He figured it out anyway, there was no harm done."

"There was harm done," John snapped. "Sherlock doesn't have friends. Nobody wants to know him but I do and you screwed with him. You made him care."

"It's not my fault," Irene shrugged. "Jealously doesn't suit you John."

"He doesn't like you," John growled. "Didn't he already prove that with your pulse and dilated pupils."

Irene shifted uncomfortably at this. "I never thought he did. But I must admit I am surprised. How did you, someone so ordinary, capture Sherlock's heart." Irene eyed him up and down. "Perhaps you aren't as ordinary as everyone thinks."

John just glared at her. "Leave Sherlock alone. He is mine and I don't want you getting him in trouble with whoever is after you. We have a kid you know."

Irene's eyes widened with this information. She didn't know about this either. Sherlock was an even bigger mystery than herself and she had lost the game . She wasn't as smart as she thought she was. Moriarty had used her and Sherlock had out smarted her.

Her whole life she thought she had been ahead when in fact she had been several steps behind. She was ahead of most people, but the more powerful ones were still ahead of her. The confidence she had built was destroyed now. She had bitten off more than she could chew.

"You have a child?" she asked and John nodded.

"You endanger him when you involve Sherlock," John said. "I want you to leave him alone. Disappear and don't come back."

"Are you jealous? That I intrigue Sherlock more than you can?" Irene asked.

"and yet he's married to me and not interested in you," John snapped back and Irene looked chastened. "Leave Sherlock alone and I mean it this time."

"Alright," Irene nodded. "You will never hear from me again."

John didn't believe this but said nothing. He turned on his heel and began walking away.

"You're lucky," Irene called out after him. "I was wrong about you. You are just as mysterious as Sherlock."

She didn't get a answer back but she didn't expect to get one.

* * *

He had saved her from getting beheaded, that had been a wonderful surprise.

"Does John know you are here?" Irene asked once they were safe.

"Yes," Sherlock said bluntly. "He knew you wouldn't stay away and would get yourself in trouble."

"He has you on a short leash," Irene commented and Sherlock scowled at her.

"Goodbye, Miss Adler," Sherlock said. "Do not call on me again. Perhaps you should take your talents elsewhere and behave from now on."

"I'm a bad girl Sherlock," Irene smirked. "I don't know how to behave."

Sherlock just stared at her before leaving and she didn't try to follow. The smirk fell from her face and she shivered. She was no longer an interest to him and she couldn't hold his attention. She was no John Watson and what he had that would forever hold Sherlock's interest and heart she had no idea.

* * *

**What did you think? I don't know who I will be doing next so if you have any suggestions please tell me :) Happy reading!**


	13. Late night book event

**Hello! Two updates in one day! I didn't think I would get it done but I did! Thank you for the reviews and I want to thank those who made suggestions! I would't have thought to use Sarah as a chapter so I want to thank _leobulter _for the suggestion and hope I did it justice. **

**Sorry for any mistakes and I hope you all enjoy! **

_He had just come in, looking for a job. Sarah never expected an ex-army doctor to look for such boring work. She did expect to have a chance with him._

* * *

**Late night book event**

They didn't get many people walking off the street asking for a job in a small clinic – especially ex-army doctors. It was Sarah who was asked to interview him and she eagerly took the chance to get to know him.

They didn't get many good looking ex-army doctors so she wasn't about the let the chance go by. She was more than willing to give him a chance, she could see that he needed the money and it was obvious that he was agitated. Being in war to coming back to living a more less active lifestyle was sure to make anyone wanting a job or hobby.

She read through his file after he had left, promising to be back the next day for his first shift. His record was impressive. He had saved many lives during the war, putting his own life on the line to save his fellow soldiers.

Her heart had beat with sympathy when she learnt that he had been shot while trying to save another man. The wounded man had survived because of John and both had to leave the army because of it.

She was happy to have such a brave man working for the clinic. In the file was a picture of John dressed in his army uniform. Sarah gazed at the picture and felt her cheeks heating up. It was a good picture and she had always loved a man in a uniform.

* * *

The clinic was far to busy for the amount of people they had working and Sarah hurried to the front desk.

"What's going on?" Sarah asked, her eyes darting to the line.

"That new doctor you hired. He hasn't buzzed anyone in for ages," the receptionist whispered quietly.

"I'll go check on him," Sarah said and she quickly headed to John's office. She knocked but received no answer and so she pushed open the door. Her eyes widened when she saw that he was fast asleep at his desk. She knew she should of, but she didn't have the heart to wake him up and so she let him sleep and decided to take his patients instead.

John came out, his face tired and weary. Sarah looked up and let her eyes raked over him. He was adorable when he just woke up and she wondered what he would look like waking up next to her.

"I thought I had more patients?" John asked.

"I took a few of yours. One or two," Sarah told him, standing up straight.

"One or two?" John questioned and she smiled.

"Or five or six," she allowed and he chuckled softly.

"Sorry. Not very professional falling asleep," John said and Sarah shook her head.

"No. what kept you up so late?" Sarah asked, curious.

"I was attending a sort of book club," John told her, shrugging on his jacket.

"Oh, you're girlfriend likes books does she?" Sarah asked, trying to act casual but she wasn't sure if she succeeded or not.

"No, I don't have a girlfriend," John shook his head.

"Good," Sarah blurted out. Before John could respond his phone went off. He gave Sarah an apologetic look and fished out his phone. He read the text message and sighed.

"How did he even get my number," John muttered to himself and then cleared his throat. "Sorry, I have to go. I'll try not to fall asleep next time."

"Bye," Sarah called after him as John left hurriedly and she sighed. She didn't get the chance to ask him out on a date. Next time she would.

* * *

Sarah continued to watch John as he came to work every other day. Sometimes he would be exhausted from things that Sarah wasn't entirely sure and other's he seemed to be happy and light. She still hadn't managed to ask John out but she working with that.

Every time she tried, something would interrupt them. On a low day where they didn't have many patients, Sarah asked John for lunch. The lunch well and the two of them got on well. After lunch the walked back to the clinic together and Sarah tried some flirting and she thought she was doing well.

When they walked in, a tall man's eyes snapped to them. He was handsome and had a small child sitting on his lap. The man eyed Sarah coldly and she flinched back at his intense gaze. She looked to John to see if he had noticed the man's intense gaze but John was smiling at them. He went to the man and lifted the boy off his lap and held him on his hip.

"Hello Desmond," John beamed and kissed his cheek.

"Daddy!" Desmond giggled and Sarah's eyes widened with shock.

"We are here for his shots," Sherlock said, standing up and going to John. Sherlock looked to Sara and then, with obvious movements, wrapped a firm arm around his waist and stood far to close for them not to be close.

"Of course," John nodded and gently pressed a kiss to Sherlock's cheek. "Come on through. Thanks for lunch Sarah."

She nodded weakly and watched as the two men headed back to John office. She hoped that the two of them were just friends but it was a long shot. She had no idea that John was a father and there was no doubt that Sherlock was the man father too.

* * *

Sherlock came out carrying Desmond and looked very satisfied. John followed him out, his hair a little mussed and his lips were a dark red. It was clear that Sherlock had given John a very...deep goodbye. Sherlock looked to Sarah and smirked and she looked away.

"See you at home love," Sherlock said, his voice deep and husky.

"Pick up some milk on your way home," John reminded him and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Boring," Sherlock drawled.

John rolled his eyes and kissed Desmond's head. John smiled at Sarah before heading back to his office to see his next patient.

Sarah sighed and headed back to her own desk. It was said that most people find their partners at work and Sarah scoffed at this. The man she liked was gay and already in a relationship and had a son. Everything she wanted. She told herself it wouldn't have worked out, that John was too different from her.

Satisfied that she now believed it, she could move on and find someone else. But she would always hold a special place for John in her heart and cure Sherlock for finding him first.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed and please review! Happy reading**


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